


The One Who Tends and Warms Hearts

by bookwormywriter



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Canon Queer Relationship, Character of Faith, Not Beta Read, Religious Content, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25804285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwormywriter/pseuds/bookwormywriter
Summary: The group take a breather in Israel.  Nile and Nicky have discussions of faith.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 58
Kudos: 296





	The One Who Tends and Warms Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> So this was sparked after seeing a discussion on tumblr wondering if Nicky would have converted. It wiggled into my brain and wouldn't let me sleep. So I wrote. 
> 
> Any mistakes are my own. The title comes from one of the 99 Names of Allah within Islam.

They had decided to travel to Israel after a mission and to catch their breath. It allowed Nile a whole new experience of the world, who still after two years of travelling with them, was always surprised and delighted by new experiences. Andy had chosen Tel Aviv over Jerusalem and Nicky had agreed; the last time they’d been in the vicinity it had been tumultuous—a result of the 1936-1939 revolt in Jaffa, and Nicky wanted to replace the memories with something good. 

They hadn’t had a safehouse in the city, rather newly established and rebuilding as it was, so Copley had managed to find and secure them housing tucked just outside of the city centre. A place with space and high walls. 

The first three days are spent mostly sleeping, eating and recovering from the fight. Booker spent his time admiring and reading many of the books that are dispersed through the house, Andy made use of her time by swimming and people watching, which Nile happily joined in on, Joe spent his time drawing or cooking, and Nicky… Well, at first Nile had been a bit confused by the set up strange wooden frame and settled himself down in front of it. After about three hours of confusion watching from over her laptop, Andy appeared near her shoulder, nearly making Nile punch her in the throat, “it’s a loom.”

“Oh.” Was all Nile said, brows creasing in thought. 

Nicky’s hands were deft and sure as he worked passing the long lines of wool through the weave, smoothing down the knots. The main colour seemed to be green, a darker forest green, it was nice. She watched him work, listened to the soft susurrations of the shuttle through the wool. 

After sunfall, Joe joined them in the living room, peering down at the work as Nicky tamped down the knots and scraped away the fraying edges with his knife. “Coming along nicely, my heart.”

Nicky gave a hum of acknowledgement, straightening up from his hunched position and pausing briefly when his shoulders and back popped. He flexed his fingers, reaching behind himself to the small of his back to press and stretch, before he took Joe’s hand and stood. 

Joe’s hand drifted over Nicky’s jaw, then down to his shoulder where he massaged lightly. “Take a break, have something to eat. I made grilled trout and tabbouleh and have fresh pomegranate juice.”

Nicky tipped his head to Joe’s shoulder and murmured something low to him before detaching himself from Joe and stretching fully before heading into the direction of the kitchen. Joe turned to Nile,his smile easy, and jutted a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen.

“That means you too, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nile said, putting her laptop aside and standing up. She paused to look over the work Nicky was doing, the outer edges seemed to be a slightly brighter shade of green than the inside, and she could see black coloured yarn tucked up to be introduced at some point.

“What’s he making?”

Joe turned his eyes back to the carefully laid out supplies on the floor. “I’ll let him tell you.”

Nile knew better than to push, so she shrugged and let herself be ushered toward the kitchen and the smell of spices. 

* * *

By the end of the first week, Nile was feeling a little stir crazy. She finally broke and went to Nicky after lunch one day while he was washing dishes. 

“Nicky, I want to do something. I want to get _out_.” 

Nicky dried his hands and leaned against the counter to give her his full attention. “What would you like to do? There are many clubs that I’m sure you’d enjoy in the city. Just because we do not want to go does not prevent you from going, this is a tourist city.”

“I know. I…” Nile paused, hesitating. She shifted her weight back and forth on her feet. “I… I know it’s not why we’re here and I…”

Nicky tilted his head, moving to take gentle hold of Nile’s wrists and squeezed. “What is it? I promise nothing you say can shock me.”

Nile let out a slow breath and nodded. “Okay. I don’t know how it would work and stuff, but while we’re here, it’d mean a lot to me if I could go to Bethlehem. I know it’s past the wall and I know there’s a lot of loopholes.” She watched his face for a long moment. “And I’d like it if you came with me.”

Nicky’s eyes flicked to the cross on Nile’s neck for a moment before looking back to her face. “I’m certain we can make arrangements, I would be honoured to accompany you. Just the two of us?”

Nile opened her mouth, then paused. “Will the others get mad?”

Nicky laughed. “No.” He sucked in a breath, his easy smile faltered slightly. “It has been a long time since I went toward Judea, though it would be nice to visit again.”

Nile shifts their arms so she was the one holding his hands now and gave them a squeeze. “I can go on my own, if it’s too difficult.”

Nicky shook his head. “No, I would like to go. Bring your analogue camera, there will be plenty to take pictures of.”

* * *

Two days later thanks to a rented car and the papers Copley made up, they headed to Bethlehem. The drive is a little under two hours, more due to waiting at checkpoints, but once they’re past the wall, Nile was practically vibrating in her seat. The city, of course, is not how Nicky remembered it to be. The lush rolling hills and stone buildings are replaced with paved roads and gleaming new hotels. He is loathed to admit that the commercialization of religion is one of the things that the New World has latched onto and spread into the Old, and he wondered if he would ever stop getting tired of it.

Still, Nile was bright eyed and eager. The Church of the Nativity was still reminiscent in a way that made Nicky’s heart clench. The old stone and marble had faded and been replastered and replaced, but when Nicky looked, truly looked, he could see the ghost of the building in it’s new trappings. He let Nile go in alone, content to walk the outside square and chat with locals and tourists alike. 

When Nile returned, Nicky had made himself comfortable on a bench and was drinking kharroub sweetened with apricot syrup when she approached. He smiled up at her, leaning back a bit to recline his head, shielding his shaded eyes from the sun. “Did you have a good time?”

“So good,” Nile breathed out. She sunk into a spot next to him, taking the offered bottle of water that was held out toward her. “I feel recharged, does that sound dumb?”

“Not at all. Talking to God and being in His presence is often a breath of sweet air.” Nicky watched Nile for a moment, letting her take a few pictures of their surroundings. “Though I do have a request in turn for you.”

“Yeah?” She looked over, sliding the camera into her bag as they stood and made their way toward their car. 

“Joe and I were going to go to Al-Aqsa Mosque sometime before we leave, it would be nice if you came.”

Nile watched him for a moment, squinting behind her sunglasses. “Sure. I mean, I have no idea what to do, but I’d be happy to see it.”

“Joe is a good teacher, he’ll make sure you’ll be fine. Just make sure to bring something to cover your hair.”

Nile nodded. “Yeah, I remember from when I was in Afghanistan. You’re supposed to wash your hands and feet. No shoes allowed.”

Nicky unlocked the car. “And you’re always respectful.”

“I try.”

* * *

The sounds of weaving broke Nile from her sleep. She’d been able to sleep through a lot since getting with the group; Andy had a tendency to snore, Booker was a restless sleeper, and Joe was up almost every morning for fajr, it became a background noise to her life. 

She’d been dozing on the couch in the midday heat and woke to the sounds of the wool being tamped down again and combed. She rolled onto her side, yawning a bit and stretching out to watch Nicky sleepily. Whatever it was was well over four feet wide, and already about three feet long. The beginnings of the black yarn were starting to be added in a pattern Nile hadn’t figured out yet. 

Nicky paused in his movements, no doubt aware of eyes on him, and looked over his shoulder. He stared for a long moment before returning to his work. “Did you rest well?”

“Mmm, okay. I have dry mouth now.” Nile rubbed her tongue over the roof of her mouth and hauled herself up into a sitting position. “I’m getting some water.”

“Would you mind getting me a glass, please?”

Nile grunted as she pulled herself off the couch and made her way toward the kitchen. Andy was resting at the table, whittling absently. She looked up when Nile crossed to the fridge, opening a bottle of water and nearly downing it in three swallows. 

“You figure out what he’s making yet?” Andy asked, not looking up from her work.

“Nope. It’s nice though. Kinda seems like a tapestry.” 

Nicky walked into the kitchen, taking the bottle of water Nile held out for him with a smile and twisted off the cap, taking a few sips. “What are you carving?”

“Not sure yet, I think it wants to be a whale.”

Nicky hummed. He took a few more sips of his water. “I’m going to pray.”

Andy gave a salute with her knife and Nile turned to look at Nicky. “You want company?”

Nicky paused, twisting the cap on his water. “If you’d like. I will join you outside shortly.”

Nile gave him a smile and nodded. “Alright, I’ll meet you out back.”

When she headed out into the backyard Booker was stretched out by the pool, sunglasses on, contentedly stretched on a chaise lounge and sunning himself. He looked up from his book when Nile walked out and gave her a small smile. 

“Going for a swim?”

“Probably in a bit.” 

He nodded and resettled, adjusting the volume of his music and returning to reading. 

Nile moved to one of the plush chairs under the lattice awning and stretched out, letting the sun warm her body. She listened to the music from Booker’s speakers, some low and melodic, mostly instrumental but with some singing. She opened her eyes again when she heard the back door open and close, looking over she saw Joe walking out, followed a heartbeat later by Nicky. Nile swallowed some of the nervousness that suddenly welled up inside of her. 

Nicky’s eyes found hers and his easy smile soothed her worries and she smiled back. “We good?”

“I believe so, we’re going over to the grass.”

Nile nodded, watching the two make their way over toward a small patch of lush grass by an olive tree. Joe carefully unrolled a prayer mat, briefly checking his watch for direction. Nicky took up position to Joe’s right, about half a step behind him, the action looking well practiced. 

Nile tilted her head, curious. “Okay if I join?”

Joe gave her a slightly distracted nod. “Just stay about five feet back from Nicky.”

Nile nodded and stood, hand flitting to the cross on her neck. Taking up a post near the edge of the grass, she sat cross legged, a respectful distance away. Booker had turned off the radio, and she could hear the faint sounds of traffic from over the walls. Joe recited quietly, hands folded in front of himself. Nile listened, watched. Joe moved with an ease of centuries of practice and confidence. 

Nile was faintly aware of old Christian practices which had prostration, so when Nicky bowed forward and onto his knees, it wasn’t all that much of a shock. He moved with a grace similar to Joe, but different, Joe was exuberant, even is his subdued worship, whereas Nicky was silently reverent. Almost solemn. 

If it were someone else, she would think he was sad. 

The soft flow of Arabic washed over her and she let it carry her thoughts toward God, her intentions for her family, for her friends, for these people in her life. 

When the recitation stopped the silence was almost overwhelming. Joe was sitting, legs crossed, resting. Nicky beside him still prostrated. Finally Nicky rose up, settled into a more comfortable position and peered out toward the sky. After about fifteen minutes, Joe stood, rolled up his prayer rug with care, and headed toward the house with a nod to Nile. 

Nile moved toward Nicky slowly until she was sitting close beside him but not touching or wanting to interfere. Eventually his eyes moved toward her and he smiled, a soft, genuine thing that Nile felt her throat close up for. 

“What did you pray for?” Nicky asked. 

“For my family and friends to be safe, for this… for us to not have any troubles while we’re here. You?”

“The same thing I always do, gratitude for Joe in my life, supplication for the things I’ve done wrong.” 

Nile watched him for a moment, thinking. “It’s a prayer rug, isn’t it?”

“Mmm.” Nicky nodded. 

“For Joe?”

“For me.”

The shock must have shown on her face because Nicky was laughing at her good naturedly. “You—I— _huh_?”

“After travelling with Joe for so long, after my own grief, I found a path toward God that I found made sense.”

“When did you convert?”

Nicky tipped his head back in thought. “About four hundred years ago? It took a lot of soul searching, many sleepless nights.”

Nile let out a slow breath of disbelief. “Wow. I mean, I’m happy for you, but damn I feel like an idiot for, you know…”

“I practice my faith quietly, I did before, I do now. Not much has changed, my intentions are still good, my belief in the Almighty the same, most of it is window dressing.”

Nile cracked a smile. “I bet it took you a long time to accept that.”

“Five hundred years, give or take. Honestly, Joe was so patient with me in the beginning, in the first century together I was not a good or kind man. I had been molded to think a certain way. To hear that my God and his were the same; that he knew about Christ, that charity and community were central to his beliefs, I didn’t want to hear it. When I did eventually hear it, I was lost. I felt lied to.”

“I get that. Religion and politics are common but unfriendly bedfellows.”

Nicky’s smile was tight but he nodded in agreement. “A truth that can be very hard to endure.” His expression softened slowly. “It was like coming home when I found faith again.”

“Alhamdulillah,” Nile murmured softly. 

“ʾAllāhu ʾakbar.” 

* * *

It was raining, the day Nicky finished. The prayer rug carefully laid out on the floor in deep green, the running edges softer in tone, an octogram of two overlaid squares in black in the centre. He kept running his fingers over the edges, picking for loose threads. 

“It’s beautiful.” Nile said softly, watching him carefully begin to roll it and then place it in a sheet where it would sit beside Joe’s.

“Thank you. It’s the only one I’ve ever made.” Nile knew Nicky likely had others, bought ones, ones that had probably been a gift from Joe. 

“So what brought this on, anyway?”

Nicky moved onto the couch next to Nile, stretching out his legs. “Jerusalem has long been an open wound for me. Something I have felt the need to atone for.” He rubbed a hand along his chin, contemplative. “When I came the first time I was a trembling young man, misled, disavowed… I came to the city for the first time with fear and hate in my heart. It coloured my experience for a long time. The city took everything and gave me it back.”

Nile had never pressed for early stories but had done some research and the Crusades, especially the First Crusades, were not fucking around. Thousands of innocents slaughtered, men turning to cannibalism to fend off starvation, rape and fire. It would be enough to make a man question his lot. Nicky had come into the city with one expectation and killed for it. Died for it. She remembered how confused she had been waking up in that medical tent. 

“My first Shahada was whispered against Joe’s skin under the stars on the Ural Mountains, and I know I don’t need to make another but…” He flapped a hand as if chasing away the words and thoughts. “I feel as if I owe it to myself, somehow. To Jerusalem.”

Nile wasn’t quite sure what to say, so she wrapped her arms around Nicky in a hug. She relaxed when his arms came up around her to hug back just as tightly.

* * *

There was something breathtaking and beautiful about the sound; about the acoustics. The way the syllables played off of Nicky’s tongue, accented and ancient. 

“Lā ʾIlāha ʾIllā Allah, Muḥammadun Rasūl Allah.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr [here](https://a-little-bit-of-ultra-violence.tumblr.com) and a twitter @bookwormywriter where you can contact me and flail. You can also send me prompts. _please_
> 
> You can also hit me up on the new fan discord [here](https://discord.gg/DwKHcym). We'd love to have you.
> 
> Also please leave a comment if you can; they really keep me motivated!


End file.
